


Guardian Angel

by Hootowl_Ambre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Cas not the focus, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, No Set Season, Original Character(s), Post-Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hootowl_Ambre/pseuds/Hootowl_Ambre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester are returning to the Impala in a cemetery when they hear knocking coming from a grave. The grave is Clarissa Anne Jones's, and Clarissa is the one knocking in it. Clarissa has been brought back to life for a reason, although no one seems to know why. With the help of the angel Castiel, Sam, Dean, and Clarissa will unravel the mystery of why Clarissa has been brought back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, bear with me on this. This fanfic is written from the point of view of Clarissa, a character created by me. Basically imagine this fanfic as a season of Supernatural that hasn't been written yet that introduces a new character. Feedback is welcome! If there are any grammatical/spelling/consistency/etc mistakes, just let me know in the comments and I'll fix it ASAP.

I open my eyes and find myself in darkness, laying on my back, my hands by my side. I cautiously extend my arms and my hands meet silky padding. I realize I'm in a coffin, buried in my grave.

I pound on the top of the coffin and try to scream, although only a hoarse whisper comes out. I'm panicked, unsure of whether or not someone would find me. I hear footsteps and pound harder.

"What the hell?" I hear a male voice exclaim.

"That's probably not a good thing," comments a second male voice.

"Let's dig it up and kill it, then."

I hear footsteps walk to my grave and start digging. When I hear the shovel dig into the ground, I stop beating the coffin. My palms grow sweaty with anticipation and my heart pounds loudly in my ears. I have a peculiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know it isn't fear, but I can't quite place it.

When I begin to hear their breathing, I work my way onto my stomach and press my back against the coffin lid. I mentally count to three and push against the lid with all my might.

The coffin lid lifts about an inch and I hear someone yell in surprise as loose dirt pours into the crack, causing me to slip, closing the coffin lid. I inhale and start coughing from inhaling dirt. I hear a thump as another one jumps into my grave.

The two men grasp an edge of the coffin lid.

"On three?" the second male asks.

The first male counts to three. When he says "three," they pull on the coffin lid as I push from the inside.

The coffin slides open and I stand up. Before I have the chance to say anything, a green-eyed, approximately six foot tall man shoves a gun in my face and demands to know "what" I am while a taller male bearing a slight resemblance to the gunman watches on.

"Last time I checked, I was human," I say, slightly confused.

"Yeah, because humans just come to life six months after they've died in the same cemetery where Sam and I just happen to be," the shorter male angrily comments.

"I don't even know who you two are!" I exclaim heatedly. Then an idea slowly dawns on me.

"You two must be hunters," I say.

A look of surprise crosses their faces, though the gunman doesn't lower his gun any.

"How do you know about hunters?" he asks.

"I went hunting with a family friend a couple times. I helped take out a vampire nest. I killed a few vamps, mostly just as backup. Apparently I did well enough to be offered a second hunt two months later involving demons. I killed a lot of people in that one, but it wasn't enough and we had to bail. That's actually how I died," I add. "We were driving far too fast and we didn't see the curve until we were flying into the trees on the other side of the white line."

Slightly less intimidating looks cross Sam and the gunman's faces.

"Dean, maybe we should check before we shoot her," suggests Sam. "She is a hunter after all."

Dean glances at Sam, silently sighs, and nods toward me. Sam pulls out holy water, salt, and a silver knife out of his pocket and approaches me. I hold out my arm and Sam pours holy water and salt on my hand. I wince slightly when he runs the silver blade across the back of my hand. Sam looks at Dean and sighs.

"She's clean."

Dean puts his gun away.

"So who are you guys?" I ask.

"I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean," Sam replies, gesturing towards the shorter male. "Well, let's get out of this grave and figure out what to do next."

After we climb out of my grave, I kneel next to my gravestone. The gravestone has "In Loving Memory of Clarissa Anne Jones. Oct. 13, 1996 - July 17, 2015" engraved on it.

As I kneel by my grave, I hear Sam and Dean discussing what to do with me.

"We can't just drop her off at home. She's been dead for six months!"

"Besides," I interject from the side of my grave, "my mom told me that if I died and came back I shouldn't come home. Part of the deal I made to go on the hunts in the first place."

Lowering his voice and not realizing I can still hear him, Dean continues, "We can't bring her with us, Sam. She could be dangerous. She's been brought back for a reason."

"We can leaver her at the bunker. She can do research."

"We would need Cas to use his angel mojo on her. To mask her."

"Fine. Send a prayer and tell him what's going on."

"Why does it always have to be me?"

"Dean, you know he responds better to you."

Dean walks off a bit, closes his eyes, says "Cas," and begins explaining what happened. I walk over to Sam and ask what Dean's doing.

"Dean's calling a friend of ours."

"But he's praying," I state, bewildered. The nagging feeling in my stomach intensifies, though I still can't figure out what the feeling is. "Does that mean you're friends with an actual angel? They're not all absolute psychopaths?"

"It's a long story, but the short version is yes," Sam sighs. After a pause, he asks, "Were you in Heaven or Hell?"

"Why?" I ask, surprised by the question.

"It might help explain why you've been brought back."

"Well, I was in Hell," I say, hesitant. "Though I don't remember much."

"Alright," Sam says, seemingly unsurprised. "Hey Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Mention the fact she's been pulled from Hell."

"Alright, Sammy."

Sam shakes his bead, turns back to me, and asks, "How do you feel?"

"I was just brought back to life after being in Hell," I say, looking at Sam in disbelief. "How do you think I feel?"

"Right. But do you feel weird? Considering everything that's just happened."

"Not really, unless you count the fact I have a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that I haven't quite been able to place yet," I say. "Its a really odd feeling."

Dean approaches us from Sam's side and says, "I've called Cas. He should be here."

I hear what sounds like a flurry of feathered wings behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I turn around and see a man wearing a suit and trenchcoat with brilliant blue eyes.

The feeling in my stomach intensifies tenfold. I know instantaneously that this man in a trenchcoat must be protected at all costs.

"Hello, Sam. Hello Dean," says Cas, apparently hearing neither me nor Sam. Turning to me, Cas continues, "Hello. My name is Castiel. I understand you were just brought back from Hell."

"Hello. I'm Clarissa. Yes, I've just been brought back from Hell. Do you know why?"

"No I do not. However, you were not brought back by an angel and you are not a demon," states Castiel, studying my face.

"What do we do with her?" Dean asks.

"Keep her safe," replies Castiel. "There's something about her that's off, and I can't tell what."

Castiel turns to me and says, "Come here so I can hide you from other angels."

I step forward and Castiel engraves an enochian spell onto my ribs. I wince and clench my fists at the pain.

"I have engraved and Enochian spell onto your ribs to mask you from angels," Castiel informs me. He turns toward Sam and Dean. "Take Clarissa back to the bunker. Please," Castiel adds. "I will accompany you."

Castiel and I follow Sam and Dean back to a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Dean affectionately pats the roof and goes around to the back to open the trunk. Sam and Dean put away the shovels and the four of us pile into the Impala- Dean driving, Sam riding shotgun, and Castiel and I in the back.

As Dean pulls out of the cemetery I turn my head and find Castiel studying me.

"What?" I ask him a bit defensively, uncomfortable with being stared at.

Castiel, looking troubled, replies, "I don't think you're human."

"What?" Dean shouts angrily.

"How can I not be human?" I ask. "I died human, for crying out loud!"

"I can name a few ways," says Dean. "We'd have to kill you if you were any of them."

"Dean, we're not going to kill her," says Sam as my face goes white.

"She's not any of the creatures you think she is," says Castiel. "I haven't seen this creature before."

"Great. So we have a thing with us that we have no idea how to kill if it's dangerous," says Dean with angry sarcasm.

"'It' has a name, you know," I say crossly.

We sit in strained silence for a bit as dead countryside rolls by the windows. I start staring out my window, thinking of everything that's happened and everything that could.

Cas breaks the silence by making a suggestion.

"I might be able to find out what Clarissa is. I would just need to enter her mind while she's asleep."

I turn to Castiel and ask, "Would it work?"

"It might. I would put you to sleep and enter your dream," explains Castiel.

"Alright. Go for it."

Cas lays two fingers on my forehead. My eyes roll back and I pass out.


	2. Chapter 2

I open my eyes and quickly sit up. I find myself in a dark hallway with black tile floors and smooth gray walls. Plain doors lined with small plaques line the hallway.

I get to my feet and examine a door to my left. The plaque reads "Daydreams." I open the door and find a tiled hallway with windows in the walls on both sides. I take a step inside, leaving the door open, and peek into one of the windows.

I see a daydream I had when I was five, of being an archaeologist when I grew up. I watch the way my young mind worked for a few minutes, slightly smiling.

I step out of the Daydream hallway and close the door. I turn around in time to see Castiel appear.

"What took you so long?" I ask, only half joking.

"I was looking for you. I went to your dreams and you weren't there," Castiel answers, looking around the hallway.

"If we're not in my dream, where are we?"

"We're in your inner mind," answers Castiel as he approaches a door. Gesturing towards the door, he adds, "This is where I was."

I step towards the door and see the plaque reads "Dreams."

"These doors must lead to different parts of my mind," I say, awestruck.

"Exactly why we're here," Castiel explains. "There may be a part of your mind that leads to what you are."

Castiel and I begin walking along opposite sides of the hallway, silently reading the plaques on the doors. I stop when I reach one with a black doorknob and a plaque reading "Hell."

"Cas?"

"What?"

I take a deep breath before asking, "Would anything from my experience in Hell be helpful?"

"It's possible. We should go inside and look."

"You can. I won't."

Castiel looks at me strangely, but lays a hand on the doorknob anyways. I back away and he opens the door and goes inside, leaving the door open a crack. I begin reading the plaques on the doors again when suddenly the door labelled "Hell" bursts open and Castiel is flung across the hallway. I run to Castiel as the door slams shut.

"Cas, what happened?"

"I was thrown out of your memory of Hell."

"Yeah, I get that. What happened in my memory?

"The only thing that happened was an explosion."

"Do you think the explosion had anything to do with what brought me back?"

"Possibly," says Castiel. After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "It may also help find out what you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The explosion came from your memory."

"And?"

"And only certain creatures have the ability to explode with that much magnitude, especially from a memory."

A moment of silence hangs heavily in the air. Then I suggest we continue looking through my mind. We read the plaques on the doors and find nothing interesting until we reach the end of the hallway. There was a door with no plaque. I try the doorknob and find it locked.

"This is probably it," I tell Castiel. "This probably has what I am."

"May I open it?"

"Go for it."

Castiel stands in front of the door and I stand back. He looks at me and I nod. With sudden force, Castiel goes to kick in the door.

As Castiel's foot meets the metal of the door, I wake up with a start and find myself in the backseat of the Impala. Castiel is beside me, unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cas? Cas?" shouts Dean, frantically glancing between the road and the backseat.

I instinctively move over to Castiel and place two fingers under his jaw to check if he has a pulse. I feel a rhythmic beating under my fingers and breathe a small sigh of relief.

"He has a pulse," I say as I lay my ear to his chest. I hear a slow intake of breath. "He's breathing. Someone hand me a flashlight."

"Why do you need a flashlight?" Dean asks, seeming nervously angry.

"I need to make sure his brain is functional," I say. "If his pupils contract and dilate, he's fine."

I see the suspicious look Dean's giving me in the rear view mirror and I add, "I used to watch a lot of medical shows on TV. I picked up some stuff."

Sam hands me a flashlight. I pull back one of Castiel's eyelids and shine the light into it. His pupil contracts. I turn off the flashlight and release a sigh of relief.

"He's alive and responsive," I say. "We should probably find a place to stop and figure out what to do next."

"She's right," Sam agrees after a slight hesitation.

Dean glances at Castiel, laying unconscious in the backseat, and gives me a mistrustful look before saying, "Fine. But I'm getting two rooms and she's not staying with Cas."

"What happened in there?" Sam asks, looking at me in the backseat.

"Castiel tried to go into a locked part of my mind. When he did that, I woke up. I have no idea what happened to him," I say with concern as I look at Castiel, wondering what happened to him.

We ride in silence for about forty five minutes, the conscious worried about Castiel and Castiel sprawled out beside me, unmoving. I check his pulse once to make sure he hasn't died.

We reach a small town and stop at a rundown-looking motel. Dean puts the Impala in park and turns around to face me.

"If you try anything with Sam or Cas," he threatens, "I will shoot you. Understand?"

I nod and Dean gets out of the car and goes into the motel. After a moment of silence, Sam sighs heavily.

"So are we going to talk now or later?"

"Why not with Dean?" I ask.

"Dean doesn't exactly instinctively trust people. I don't think it would be a good idea to have a talk with him involved."

"I see. In that case, later. I don't know if he can hear what's going on or not," I say, nodding towards Castiel. "I don't want him hearing anything that might make him panic when he comes to."

"You don't know Cas very well. He's not exactly the type to panic. Or flee," Sam adds as an afterthought.

"Still. I don't like the idea of an eavesdropper. Besides, Dean could come back any minute, and if we're going to talk, we should do so without interruptions."

"Alright," Sam sighs, seeming a tad annoyed at having to wait to get information.

"Speak of the devil, there he is," I say as Dean walks back to the Impala, carrying two room keys.

Sam and I step out of the Impala and I go around to the other side of the car.

"I got a set of adjoining rooms," says Dean, tossing one key to Sam and pocketing the other.

"Alright. Let's get Cas inside and get settled," replies Sam as he pockets his key.

I open the door to Castiel and grab him by the shoulder before he falls onto the cracked blacktop.Sam hurries around the door, picks up Castiel, and puts him over his shoulder.

Dean leads the way to the motel room. He unlocks the door and we all walk in. The motel room is in different shades of green- the carpet a deep hunter green, the walls a yellow-green similar to the shade of a booger, and the comforters on the bed an ugly pattern of various shades of green.The furniture is wood and the refrigerator and microwave are off-white. Sam hurries in and lays Castiel down on one of the two single beds.

As Sam is laying Castiel down, I walk into the room, past a mirror. Out of the corner of my eye I see the right side of me. Something catches my attention and I step back in front of the mirror and face it full on. I see my normal features, smudged with dirt-- medium length, copper-colored hair, rounded face, and small, slightly upturned nose- but my eyes had changed. My normally dark blue-green eyes were now a brilliant shade of blue with golden flakes, like one would imagine the water on a white, sandy beach would be with sunlight reflecting off.

Still staring at my eyes in the mirror, I ask, "Have my eyes been like this since you two dug me up?"

"Yes," says Dean haughtily.

"Isn't that your normal eye color?" asks Sam.

"No, its not," I say, finally pulling my gaze from the mirror.

"It's probably a sign you're turning into something or you've already turned into it," explains Sam.

"But what am I turning into?" I ask, frustrated.

"We don't know," says Dean, glancing at me sideways.

Dean pulls out a canister of salt and a roll of tape and crossing the room to the door leading to the parking lot. He tapes a devil's trap in front of the door and lines the windowsills on either side of the door with salt.

Sam walks over to a door next to an old television set across from the two beds. He opens the door and goes through. I follow him and find a room with only two beds, one window, and a door I assume leads off to a bathroom. Sam pulls out his own salt canister and roll of tape and tapes a devil's trap on the floor in the doorway. He hands me the salt and I carefully put a salt line on the windowsill.

After a few moments of silence, Dean calls out, "You okay in there, Sammy?"

"I'm fine, Dean," says Sam, exasperated. "And don't call me Sammy."

"Can you handle Clarissa for the night while I stay in here with Cas?"

"Yes. I'll be fine."

"Alright. I need my four hours."

I quietly walk over to one of the beds and sit on the edge. I look at the small nightstand between the two beds. I'm surprised to see it's nearly two o'clock in the morning. Sam sits on the bed across from me and we wait for Dean to fall asleep.

When the clock on the nightstand reads a quarter after two, Sam and I hear Dean's gentle snoring. Sam gets up and quietly closes the door. He walks back, sits on the edge of his bed, and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

"So are we going to talk now?" Sam asks in a low voice so Dean can't be woken.

"I suppose now's as good a time as any," I reply in an equally low voice. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Well, start with how you got into hunting."

"Alright. There was a family friend that was nearly killed by a demon," I begin. "He was saved by an angel, though he didn't know it at the time. The angel fried the demon and healed the family friend. He was terrified at first, but, after a while, a natural curiosity took over and he researched anything and everything supernatural. That's how he discovered hunters. He decided he wanted to help people with his experience, so he began hunting. He slowly became integrated into the hunting community by first going on smaller hunts and then building up to bigger hunts. He made a few hunting friends along the way.

"About four months after he began hunting, he called me and asked if I could look up some information on a creature I found out was a skinwalker. He was having internet problems and needed the info asap. I looked up everything about skinwalkers in under an hour, including where they lived and how to kill them. After that, I became the unofficial 'researcher' or 'hub,' whichever you want to call it. I looked up so much information about various creatures that I asked to go on a hunt. I even trained myself before asking. My mother wouldn't hear of it. Then the family friend asked if I could go on a hunt to help take down a nest of vamps with his hunting buddy. They suspected it was a huge nest and they needed backup.

"My mom and I had a talk and agreed to a few terms, like if I were to die and come back to life I wouldn't go home. After our talk, I left with the family friend and hunting buddy. We took down the nest of vamps like any group of hunters would, but killing them bothered me. I think it did because of how human the vampires seemed. They looked human and acted human, to an extent. Heck, they used to be human."

After a pause to make sure I didn't miss anything, I conclude, "So that's how I got into hunting."

"Alright. Do you think anyone would do a crossroads deal to bring you back?" Sam asks. "Maybe the family friend or others in your family?"

"No," I say. "I kept crossroad information hush-hush, and only the family friend knew from his own research. I'm pretty sure he died in the crash with me, so it can't be him."

"Okay. You said you were in Hell. Do you have any idea why?" asks Sam.

"Well, it's probably from the amount of people I killed on my last hunt," I say. "The family friend had heard rumors of a knife that can kill demons, and somehow his hunting buddies found a picture of it. I did some heavy research and found out the ancient spells used on it and the materials it was made of. The spells were in a dead language with no translations to be found, so it took me a long time before I could crack the code and translate it.

"After I translated the spells, the family friend got the materials for me. I set to work creating a copy of the demon-killing knife. After about three weeks of nonstop work, I thought I had made an exact copy of the knife, and that the knife would work. The family friend then came to me about taking out a huge group of demons that had possessed almost an entire town. We went on the hunt, but the knife didn't work. The knife only stunned the demons for a few minutes before the demons were back up and going for us. There's no way the people the demons possessed were still alive. The demons killed the hunting buddy, and nearly killed us. We barely got out of there alive, but as we were driving the crash happened, and the rest is history."

"I see," says Sam. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I still feel the intense need to protect Cas, though now that's mixed with the need to figure out what happened," I say, rubbing my face with one hand. I stop rubbing my face, look Sam in his eyes, and say, "I honestly don't know what happened to Castiel. If I did something to him, I didn't mean to."

Sam looks into my eyes and his features slightly soften.

"Alright. I believe you," says Sam before he stifles a yawn. "We should probably get some sleep.

Sam gives me a guilty look before pulling out a pair of handcuffs from his coat. I sigh.

"I understand. You still don't trust me and you need your sleep," I say as I hold out my arm near the bedpost. Sam gets up and handcuffs my wrist to the bedpost.

Sam takes off his coat and gets into the bed across from me. I work my way under the covers and try to sleep. I stare at the digital clock and watch the numbers go from 2:38 to 4:53. My wrist is becoming chaffed and I can't get comfortable in the bed.

I get restless and wish I could get up when I remember the spare bobby pin I keep in the hair behind my ear for times like these. I hope my mother left it there when I was buried. I feel the hair behind my left ear and find the bobby pin. I remove it and quietly pick the lock on the handcuff. The cuff falls open and I quietly get up, unsure of what I'm going to do.

I tiptoe over to the door leading to the adjoining room. I silently open the door and go through, closing the door behind me with a soft click. I notice Dean still has his eyes closed, apparently sleeping. I quietly walk over to Castiel's bed an kneel beside it. I lay my hand on Castiel's and sigh quietly. I look over my shoulder to make sure Dean hasn't woken up. He hasn't moved.

I look back at Castiel. I take a deep breath and start whispering to him.

"Hey Castiel. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I need to say this."

I pause, realizing the absurdity of what I'm doing and the possibility I could get shot by Dean if he wakes up. I decide to continue anyways.

"I don't know what happened to you in my mind. I don't know why you're not awake right now. However, I do know one thing. I will fix you. I will find out what happened and I will do my best to undo it. You have my word."

I gently squeeze Castiel's hand, stand up, and turn around to find Dean sitting up in his bed, facing me, with a look on his face I hadn't seen before now. He has his gun out, but it's on the bed beside him, his hand resting on it. I feel my face go red and I'm thankful for the darkness of the room.

"How much did you hear?" I ask.

"I heard it all," says Dean, looking at me in a nearly pitying way. "I woke up when you closed the door."

"Why didn't you shoot me then instead of waiting?" I ask, genuinely surprised.

"I heard Sam sleeping. I thought you would've hurt or killed Sam first if you were going to mess with me or Cas. Did Sam just go to sleep and leave you alone?"

"No," I say hesitantly, unsure of how Dean would react to the fact I escaped. "He handcuffed me but I had a bobby pin and picked the lock."

"Huh," says Dean to my shock. "Are you tired?"

I stare at Dean for a moment before registering the fact he asked me a question after ignoring the fact I broke out of his brother's care.

"Uh, yeah, a bit, I suppose," I say. "I should probably go to bed and try to sleep."

I hesitate for a moment, noticing a look on Dean's face, a look a person gets when he or she think about certain memories that have impacted their life. I walk over to Dean and gently pat his shoulder. He flinches a bit and looks at me with the same peculiar look he had when I first found out he had been listening to me. It's a look that I can't quite place.

"Goodnight," I say as I begin walking between the beds to go back to the adjoining room.

"G'night," Dean says back.

I finally place the look he has. It's a look of understanding. I realize Dean is sympathizing with me about Castiel. I can't help but wonder what he's done to be able to sympathize with me.

I turn back and quietly open the door to the adjoining room. The first things I notice are the half of the devil's trap in the adjoining room is completely destroyed and a woman in a work uniform standing at the foot of Sam's bed, facing Sam. I see her head turn slightly, rippling her shoulder length hair. Before I can call out to either of the boys, the woman raises her arm and flicks her wrist. I feel a jerk on my body and I sail backwards onto the wall between the beds. I can't move a muscle.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sammy?" Dean yells, sprinting toward the open door.

The woman walks out of the door, her hair and eyes an identical shade of jet black. A demon. She casually flicks her wrist, sending Dean crashing into the wall to my right on the other side of the bed. I stare at the woman and wish she would stop sadistically smiling.

She walks to Castiel's bedside, only a few feet in front of me. "Oh look, your little angel is sleeping," she says in a syrupy voice laced with disgust.

A thin veil of sweat appears on my skin. "Don't touch him," I spit at the demon through gritted teeth.

"And why shouldn't I? Is he your boyfriend?" The demon stresses the last word before gasping with false surprise. "I guess I shouldn't touch him, then. After all, you told me not to."

Looking right at me, the demon smiles and grabs Castiel's limp wrist. I instantly feel my feet hit the floor and move toward the demon. I cover almost half the distance before the demon has the chance to drop Castiel's wrist and stop me.

"Well, look at you!" the demon exclaims. "Avoiding my powers like an angel. But," the demon walks toward me and puts her hand by my back, "no wings."

I cringe at the demon's physical closeness. Her sulfuric scent permeates my nostrils. She smells putrid.

"I wonder what you'd do if I," she pauses and raises her hand in Castiel's direction, "accidentally flung him...."

As soon as those words leave the demon's mouth, her powers over me disappear. I swing my arm in her direction and catch her throat in the crook of my elbow. I pull her to me and hold her in a tight chokehold. The demon scratches at my arm, not getting purchase through the blouse I was buried in.

"Exorcizamos te omnis spiritus," I begin. Before I can go any further with the exorcism, the demon plants a punch on the corner of my mouth hard enough to make me see miniature lights explode in front of my field of vision. I accidentally loosen my grip and the demon slips from my grip.

"So you don't want to play nice, then," the demon says, no longer smiling. "That's fine. We don't have to."

The demon launches at me and pins me to the wall by my throat. I can't breathe and I try to swipe at her face. She laughs at my futile attempts.

"Don't worry. With what I'm about to do to you, resisting would be pointless."

I suddenly understand what she's about to do. Pure fear forces adrenaline through my veins. I kick my legs and swing my arms as hard as I can. My heart beats faster and my eyes widen. The demon opens her mouth, and, before I can even attempt to brace myself, black smoke comes barreling out of her mouth into mine.

My body stiffens as the demon forces her way into it. I become paralyzed, unable to even try to stop the onslaught of smoke. Finally the smoke stops pouring into me. I hear Dean drop from the wall. I start sprinting toward the untouched devil's trap, unsure of how or why I'm still in control of my body. Then my feet start to jerk.

I hear running footsteps behind me, then feel a hand grab my arm and half drag, half lead me to the devil's trap in front of the door. I completely lose control of my feet as Dean is pushing me into the trap. I close my eyes and I don't feel myself hitting the floor, although I hear it with perfect clarity.


	5. Chapter 5

I open my eyes and find myself laying on smooth black tile. I sit up and look down the hallway of my mind. The hallway is almost exactly the way it was before. The only difference is that there are clouds of smoke seeping from beneath the doors and forming a stream toward the end of the hallway. At the end of the hallway, I see a shadow of a person in front of the room Castiel attempted to enter.

I silently stand and make my way toward the shadow. I avoid stepping directly into the smoke. As I get closer to the shadow, the smell of sulfur becomes suffocating.  _Its_ _the_ _demon_ _,_  I think to myself. The thought echoes through the hallway and I freeze.

The demon spins around, and I feel my face drain of blood. I see the face of what was once a woman who may have been considered pretty. It was as if her face was made of wax, had been held too close to heat, and resculpted by an amateur sculptor. Her face is blackened and cracked. She wears a scowl for a mouth. She is barely recognizable as having been human.

She smiles at me, a hideous sight. The slight action seems to tear her face in half.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Her voice is warped. Still recognizable as female, the voice sounds inhuman, a high-pitched shriek. She walks toward me and says, "You're not supposed to be out here."

"You're not supposed to be in here, so that makes two of us in places we're not supposed to be," I reply with a sneer.

"Somebody's a little cranky," the demon sing-songs in her shrieking voice. "Do you want to know what I found in this pudding brain of yours?"

I stare at the demon, fairly certain she's pulling my leg. I decide she's completely insane, but I take her bait.

"What did you find?"

"I found your boyfriend!" The demon grins at me, exposing brilliantly white teeth that starkly contrast with her pit-black face. "But there's no way you can get to him, because he's locked himself away!" The demon begins cackling madly, a grating sound that I can't bear to hear.

I grab the demon by the throat and pin her against a wall, between two doors labelled "School" and "Crossroads."

I put my face inches in front of hers before menacingly saying,"First of all, he's not my boyfriend. He's a bit old for me. Second of all, if you know where he is you better tell me. It won't be pretty otherwise." I know my threat is completely empty.

To my shock, she starts scrabbling at my hand. I look at her throat to find it turning a deep shade of gold.

"You better hurry up, then," I whisper in the demon's ear.

"Okay. To get to him you have to go through that door. I haven't been able to open it, I swear. Now let me go," the demon quickly chokes out. She may be insane, but she knows when someone's about to kill her.

I release her throat but grab onto her upper arm. I take notice of the large gold handprint covering the front of her neck. She tries to jerk away, but I tighten my grip on her arm, causing her to inhale with pain. I drag her to the door at the end of the hallway.

"If I can't open this, you will. Or you'll die trying," I say as I look into her eyes, round as marbles and black as the night. She nods, blatantly terrified.

I lay my hand on the doorknob and turn. It turns easily and the door unlatches. I close the door, aware of the smoke swirling around my ankles.

"It wasn't locked," I say, turning to the demon.

"Great, now you can let me...."

I don't allow her to finish the sentence. I grab her by the throat with both hands, fully intent on annihilating her. I watch the gold travel down her body and up onto her face and head. She scrabbles at my hands, but I don't budge. Her body finally becomes engulfed in gold. She disappears in a small puff of dust. The smoke around my feet and down the hallway dissipates. The smell of sulfur becomes weaker and is completely gone after a few seconds.

I face the door. I turn the doorknob easily and open the door.

I step into a room that is completely gold. I can't tell where the floor ends and walls begin or where the walls end and ceiling begins. Its utterly disorienting. Then I see Castiel across the room from me. He appears to be unconscious, leaning against the wall. I run over to him and shake his shoulder.

"Castiel? Cas?"

He starts moving and opens his eyes. He jerks into a straight-backed sitting position, grabs my arm, and looks me dead in the eyes.

"Clarissa...."

He's gone before he can say another word. I stand up straight and frantically look around. Castiel is no where to be seen. I tell myself he got himself out.

I realize my legs and feet feel tingly, pins and needles prickling all over. I look down and I see gold strands twining their way up my legs. My feet and my calves are already completely covered.

Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins once again and I start sprinting toward the open door. Before I'm even halfway there, the door slams shut. I look down and the gold is halfway up my torso, the thin vines crisscrossing their way up the rest of my torso and down my arms. I feel the tingling rise up my neck and onto my face and scalp. I close my eyes and wait for whatever is going to happen.

I feel a sudden shift in the direction of gravity. I open my eyes to find myself laying in the middle of the Devil's Trap with a pile of dust in front of my face. I feel as if my entire body is covered in a tingly, prickly sensation, as if it lost it's circulation, like when a foot falls asleep. I register Castiel's voice, but I can't quite make out what he's saying because my ears are ringing. He's saying something about unlocking something and loud noises. Or possibly voices-- it's difficult to tell.

I sit up on my knees and Castiel stops talking. I look up and find Castiel moving toward me. He stops the moment his eyes meet mine. He seems to be bathed in a golden light, although I'm fairly certain its still dark outside. He turns toward Sam and Dean and tells them to cover their ears.

I feel my body stiffen as if I were being possessed. My eyes freeze as I'm staring straight ahead. I am completely unable to move. The tingling in my body changes to a burning sensation. My entire body is on fire, both the inside and the out. The ringing in my ears intensifies. I see Sam and Dean cover their ears as if they could hear the high-pitch frequency within my own ears. Then I realize my mouth is open.

A wind begins to swirl my hair around my head. I see all the furniture in my field of vision quake in the wind. I continue to emit the frequency and the wind continues to blow. Castiel watches me from a few feet away, trenchcoat flapping around his legs.

Suddenly the wind and the noise stops, although my body is still burning and I am still unable to move.

My mouth begins to move of it's own accord. It forms words in a language I do not understand. The burning in my back intensifies. It feels as if my back is being ripped open and the muscles are being pulled out. I am unable to cry or react. Castiel stares behind me, as if he sees something that wasn't there before. He then signals Sam and Dean to uncover their ears.

"What's she saying?" Sam asks.

"She's chanting in Enochian," Castiel replies.

"Isn't that angel talk?" Dean chimes in.

"Exactly," Cas responds.

As I continue chanting the words, they start to make sense. I begin to hear English instead of Enochian.

"But you never said what she's saying," Sam pushes.

"Give her a minute and she'll say it in English. Her brain is rewriting itself."

"What do you mean her brain is rewriting itself?" Dean asks, a note of angry nervousness in his voice.

Before Castiel has a chance to respond, my mouth begins forming the English version of the Enochian chant.

"I am a guardian angel. I am here to protect Castiel," I chant. "I am a guardian angel. I am here to protect Castiel."

"Is she ever going to stop saying that?" Dean asks, clearly uncomfortable. "And what does she mean, 'guardian angel'? Aren't those the angels you tell your kid about so they're not scared of the dark?"

"Yes, she'll stop saying it, but I don't know when. I've never witnessed this before," Castiel admits, eyes trained on me. "As for what a guardian angel is, it may be best to wait until she's fully transformed so she can find out at the same time you and Sam do."

"I am a guardian angel," I continue to chant. "I am here to protect Castiel."

"Do we just wait until she's finished?" Sam asks. "Is there something we're supposed to do?"

I see Castiel search his mind. "As far as I know, there's nothing we need to do. As I said before, I haven't witnessed this."

"I am a guardian angel. I am here to protect..." I chant. Suddenly, my body stops burning and is no longer stiff. I fall forward onto my hands. I look up toward Cas, Sam, and Dean and the last word falls from my mouth.

"...Castiel."

Immediately after I say the last word, my vision doubles and I collapse, my eyes closing before I hit the ugly green carpet.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for now! This fanfic is an ongoing process and will be updated as soon as my creative juices flow enough to pour out the next chunk.


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